Chained Saint Is the Future of Thrash—And They Have Something to Say
No computers, no click track, and no holds barred.
There’s a new wave of heavy music emerging—and it doesn’t care about your streaming algorithms, industry trends, or whether its lyrics are “too political.” South Florida’s Chained Saint isn’t just reviving thrash metal with analog grit—they’re bringing a message with teeth. And they’re doing it without compromise.
In the latest episode of The Power/Less Podcast, I talk with Chained Saint—Sean Sterling (vocals), Ethan Kahn (guitar), and Cameron Cottrell (drums)—about their debut record Blindside, produced completely analog by none other than William DuVall of Alice in Chains. From tracking straight to tape with no digital safety nets, to writing songs that deal with war, policing, religious manipulation, and mental health, this is a band that plays hard and thinks harder.
Their story begins in garages and high school music programs, covering Rush and Dream Theater. But unlike a lot of technically skilled young bands, Chained Saint didn’t settle for sounding tight and empty. Their songs feel lived in. Messy, real, honest. And that goes beyond their production style—their lyrics pull no punches.
Take “Corrupt to the Core,” a track co-written by Ethan and Sean, that bluntly calls out police violence and systemic injustice from a deeply personal place. Sean, who describes himself as shaped by these realities, spoke openly about watching friends and family be harmed or traumatized by the very systems meant to protect them. “My mom’s come home crying,” he said during the interview. “This song’s personal.”
Then there’s “Free Reign,” a searing commentary on war, written in the shadow of the Ukraine-Russia invasion. Ethan wrote it in high school study hall as his classmates struggled to grasp what was happening overseas. Instead of turning it into a soapbox, the lyrics bounce between perspectives: the soldier, the civilian, the war machine. It’s poetry with bite.
And they didn’t stop there. On “Dark Side of the Cross,” the band targets the weaponization of religion—a track especially resonant for anyone raised under fundamentalism. Sean, who grew up Catholic, reflected on how sacred texts are often twisted to divide and control. “How do you use something meant to unify, to tear people apart?” he asked. “That’s what this song is about.”
This kind of lyrical conviction is rare in any genre—but especially in metal, where political boldness is often softened for brand deals, radio spins, or festival slots. Not with Chained Saint. As Ethan put it, “We gave no fucks.” Their mission is clear: to say something real, and sound exactly like themselves while doing it.
That commitment carries over into their sound. Working with William DuVall, the band tracked Blindside entirely to tape—no click tracks, no digital editing, no fake-perfect tones. It’s a refreshing rejection of algorithm-approved overproduction. Drummer Cam laid everything down live, and the band didn’t flinch at keeping it raw. “It’s a snapshot of who we were, exactly,” Sean said. “We didn’t want to fake it.”
Even the solos rip with intention. Guitars punch, drums stomp, and vocals roar—sometimes with thrash intensity, other times with operatic range. Sean, it turns out, is trained in opera. He brings those chops to Blindside not to show off, but to serve the songs—each track is performed with the emotion it demands, whether it’s fury, grief, or defiance.
This isn’t nostalgia-core. This isn’t just another group of kids trying to be Metallica. This is a modern metal band with a conscience, a pulse, and a serious set of songs. They’re not here to be “radio-friendly.” They’re here to be real—and to remind you why metal used to scare the right people.
Whether you’re a longtime fan of protest music, a gearhead curious about all-analog production, or just tired of metal bands afraid to take a stand—Chained Saint deserves your attention.